Desperate Measures
by quentin7
Summary: Dylan and Rhade are trapped together, and their captors want something unusual from them. 22 Slash warning
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these lovely people. I swear. Do you think I'd let Kevin Sorbo out to risk his life once a week if I owned him?

Rating: M, and a SLASH warning.

Note: I'm still relatively inexperienced with Andromeda. Please, please, please don't hesitate to correct me on factual errors (the characters are easier to remember than the sci-fi details) or even inconsistencies in the way I write the characters. Send me an e-mail if you like. And, yes, I know the story is contrived. But it's not PWP (actually, I wouldn't call it 'P' at all since I write fade-to-black sex), so I stand behind it. I'd put it mid to late season four (even though Steve Bacic looks better in season five with long hair); placing it in season five is just too sticky. If you're still reading at this point and my note hasn't put you off, I'm so happy to have you read the story. :0

Desperate Measures

The transmission was fuzzy, and Beka had to yell at Harper to get him to shut up so she could hear them.

Her voice said, "Where are you?"

Dylan replied, "Below the surface, I think. It appears as though we're trapped in a tunnel of some sort."  
Rhade said, "We're in jail."  
Dylan looked at him. "What?"

Rhade said, "If this isn't a holding cell, I don't know what is."

Beka's voice: "Just sit tight, and we'll—"

And that's when the audio cut off.

Dylan watched as Telemachus Rhade paced back and forth in what he himself was beginning to view as a cell. They'd walked around a perfectly ordinary bend in the tunnel only to find a dead end. When they turned to go back they way they came, they'd hit a force field with no apparent source. All they knew was they were stuck in a three meter by roughly six meter section of dusty, hot tunnel. It was too warm to be stone. They could only assume it was artificial, and that whoever had constructed and hidden it beneath the planet's surface had also booby trapped it. That didn't bode well, because the only reason they were down there in the first place was they believed the tunnels had long been abandoned. There had been no signs of life, only emanations from a strange power source that they'd decided to investigate. Now they had no way of knowing if anyone would find them and release them.

Rhade said, "I knew Harper should have been the one to come down here."

"Then why did you agree to come?"

"I was bored. I wanted to do something physical."

"Well, your pacing isn't going to help matters now."

"And your platitudes and brave hero routine won't help either."

"I think I liked it better when we weren't talking."  
So they stopped.

Rhade continued to pace, and Dylan once again set his mind to figure out just what was wrong with the man. He'd been shocked when Rhade had volunteered himself for the mission, mainly because Rhade had been doing his best to avoid him lately. Rhade had been dissatisfied with everything on the ship, except maybe Trance, because nobody could be all that annoyed with Trance. He'd noticed that Rhade was often coming from the direction of the hydroponics lab, but when he questioned Trance about their conversations, Trance only admitted that Rhade had a problem, and he didn't like to talk about it. Except, that is, to her. Dylan had genuinely thought Rhade was beginning to feel at home with his crew on the Andromeda. Perhaps he was wrong.

It was a desert planet, and they had been sweating when they descended from the surface. Surprisingly, the tunnels weren't any relief; in fact, they were much warmer than the surface. He judged that the air temperature was near 32 celsius. It wasn't humid air, but it was still hot enough to leave a sheen of sweat on both of them. Dylan felt his scalp bead with perspiration, and it began to soak his hair and fall down the back of his neck. They were losing too much water, and neither one of them wanted to think about the inevitable dehydration that they faced if Harper didn't find them. The reason they were wandering was only because Harper couldn't pin-point the source of the power; he more than likely couldn't pin-point them either.

Rhade suddenly stopped his pacing, looking at Dylan with eyes carefully shrouded in coolness. Behind them, Dylan thought he sensed something…primitive.

Rhade said, "How can you just sit there, so calm?"

"What do you want me to do? We've searched for exits, weaknesses, circuitry panels."

"You're just too relaxed. We have no idea who's holding us—"

"If anybody."

"But my point is, there are occasional times when being the cool, collected leader doesn't get you shit."

"You've never had a problem with my leadership skills before. I can distinctly recall a few times when you've given me a compliment—however back-handed—because I'm level-headed."

"There are some times when being so…like you are is a detriment."

"Would you like to tell me what your problem is?"

"Well, I'm stuck in a warm tunnel behind a forecfield, I have no food or even water, and—"

"I meant your problem with me."

"I don't have a problem with you. I have a problem with this situation."

"Could you just stop pacing, then. I think that would be better for the both of us." It wasn't a question but an order, and he was shocked to see Rhade follow it, reluctantly but quickly. Rhade sat against the opposite wall, stretching out his long legs so that they lay parallel to Dylan's own. But Rhade was sitting as far from Dylan as he could, leaving perhaps a man's heighth of space between them. It was only after Rhade got settled that he realized Rhade wasn't just annoyed—he was nervous. He was trying to appear calm and doing such a masterful job that if someone didn't know him, they'd swear he was fine. But to Dylan, it was obvious he wasn't. And that scared Dylan more than he wanted to let on, because if Rhade wasn't in control, something was wrong.

"Are you okay?"

Rhade was about to answer when movement caught their eyes. A small figure approached the force field, and they scrambled to stand, to ready their weapons. It was a girl or a small, frail woman, and she seemed a lot more scared of them than they were of her.

She said, "Please, those weapons will only hurt you. This is a one-way force field. Things go in, but they don't come back out."  
"Who are you?"

"There's no time. I mean you no harm, but you never saw me. If you wish to continue to get water, you must never say you saw me." She had set down two large canisters on the ground, and she poked them through the force field with a staff she carried. "They will come. They will not harm you but you should not trust them."  
"Why should we trust you?" Rhade said.

But she was backing away, glancing around the corner before she was gone.

It took them roughly two hours of looking at the clear liquid in the canisters, smelling it, dropping tiny amounts of it on the floor, and pouring it directly onto their skin before they decided it was water and they had no choice but to drink it.

"You believe her, don't you?" Rhade asked him. He was pacing again.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"She has honest eyes."

"Does she?"

"I can tell when a person's screwing with me. Like I can tell you're hiding something."

Rhade frowned. "You assume she's honest because you are. It doesn't even occur to you that someone might be lying—except me, of course. You've never trusted me."

"No. There was a time when I didn't trust you, but I do now. I would have thought my actions had proven that. I just don't like it when someone is visibly bothered by something and they refuse to talk about it."

Rhade's expression flared to anger for a moment before it went back to that calculated calm again. He sat down without saying anything. So Dylan drained his water and took off his shirt, folding it carefully to use it for a pillow.

"It's hot. I'm tired. Since you're so perfectly fine with everything, I'll give you the option: do you want to sleep now, or will you stay awake while I sleep?"

"I'm not sleeping."

"Good," he said, staring at Rhade's jittery form intently for a moment before he turned his back and went to sleep along his wall, with his feet almost touching Rhade's.

* * *

He was awakened by a kick and the sound of Rhade scrambling around the cell. It wasn't the girl coming, unless she was in the larger group of larger people they could hear moving down the tunnel toward them, their heavy shoes clacking loudly against the ground. Apparently, Rhade thought enough of the girl's warning to hide evidence that she'd been there. He had removed his shirt, and he was now hastily wrapping it around his canister and his weapon.

So Dylan did the same, dropping the shirt over his contraband only seconds before they saw their captors. Or who they could only assume would be their captors. They were faced not with larger people but several women just like the one before. They were strikingly beautiful if not a little pale and squinty-eyed. They all had long blonde hair and they dressed in form-fitting green ensembles that could only be some sort of military fatigues. Not a single one of them was over five feet tall—most shorter, in fact—but one was clearly the leader. She walked right toward the force field, but she somehow knew exactly where to stop.

All the women watched them with interest, and Dylan found himself unnerved. They were looking at him in a way that he had never been viewed before, or at least in a way that no one had dared openly stare at him before. It was a combination of appraisal, like the way a person might view a painting, and possession, like the way a person might view a future conquest. And it was unmistakably sexual.

The leader said, "We are lucky, comrades."

"Indeed," one of them replied.

Another said, "And look at the brown eyes."

The leader snapped, "I can see very well, Felicity. I'm more interested in their stature. I've never seen a man this tall before."

"Perhaps they're giants. Maybe they can't—"

"No, Honoria. They aren't giants. They're…totally new blood."

The women cooed a response, and Dylan suddenly felt a little ill. Rhade was looking sick too.

The leader suddenly showed some interest in talking to her captives. "Do you have names?"

"Yes," Dylan answered.

"Would you care to tell us?" she said, and the tone was obviously patronizing.

"No," Rhade said. "We would not."

"It's no matter. That will not be important soon enough," she said. Then she turned and her gaggle of ladies followed behind her.

* * *

It had not been hard to figure out what they wanted. It had just taken Dylan and Rhade a few minutes to articulate it.

"We're studs," Rhade said, his back thudding against the tunnel wall as he sat down.

"Looks like."

"They actually plan to force us to have sex with them."

"Appears so."

"Don't tell me you're anxious to impregnate untold strange women. Don't tell me you're okay with this."

"I'm most certainly not okay with this."

"I wish we knew why they were doing this."

"It's obvious, isn't it? You're a Neitzschean."

"Why does everything come back to me being Neitzschean? When did that become my whole personality to you?"

"I just meant that you can understand genetic manipulation, however crude. They must be inbred or else they're just sick and tired of being short and fair. We must look like ideal additions to their gene pool."

"You are," a voice said, and it was their friend again, bearing a pouch of liquid and a package wrapped in paper. She seemed less nervous now. "Bring me your canisters. I'll pour this water into them. I couldn't risk bringing more or else they'd notice they were gone." But first, she dropped the package into the cell. "It's bread. Conserve it. I have no idea when I'll be back."

"Who are you?"

"One of them."

"Why aren't they feeding us? Why do you have to hide from them?"

"They want you weak."

"Why?"

Dylan answered Rhade's question. "They want us docile enough that they don't have to be afraid of us, so we'll do what they want."

The girl simply nodded. "I don't like it."

Dylan asked, "That they're not feeding us, or that they want to force us to have sex with them?"

The girl sat down for a moment, now that she'd finished carefully pouring out the water. "We breed the wrong sort of man. Our men are no taller than I am, and they contiune to get killed when they leave these tunnels to raid the neighboring towns. The few men left are the weakest of the group, and they are the only ones that are left to procreate. It's a cycle. Now, the women in the colony have turned to raids themselves, for lack of men."

"How long has it been like this?" Dylan asked.

"Since before my grandmother's time."

"What do they raid for?"

Suddenly, she got up, as if she heard something coming. "I must go."

"What do they raid for?"

"Power. We steal from their generators because we have no way of getting the polyplautinol we need to run our own generator. It maintains everything." She snuck away, turning to say, "Conserve your bread. And you can…well, if you need to relieve yourselves, and you can aim toward the walls. They will absorb the liquid." And she was gone.

They didn't even question it. They had to pee so badly that they chose a spot quite close to the force field and relieved themselves as she suggested, without bothering to consider just what kind of walls absorbed liquid. It didn't all seep in at once, but they were glad to see the wall suck up the remainder of their waste without leaving so much as a scent of it behind.

They sat back down in their places and Rhade said, "That's why it's so dry in here."

"Oh?"

"The generator powers a dehumidifier system using the tunnel walls. It's how they get water in a desert climate."  
"We should keep those canisters tightly closed."

"Indeed," Rhade said.

They didn't touch the bread, choosing to save it for when they were truly hungry. They had only been in their prison for ten hours, and they had no idea how much longer they would be there.

Though they'd momentarily cooperated to face the women, the tensions returned soon after the silence settled in again. Rhade sat there, fidgeting, and Dylan couldn't stop looking at him. It was hard to see Rhade, a man formidable both in mind and body, reduced to barely holding himself together. His hands went through his hair, over and over again, and he finally stopped to look up at Dylan.

"Stop staring at me."

"There's not much else to look at."

"Why don't you go back to sleep."

"What is your problem?"

"I don't have a single problem in this tunnel besides you. It would be so much easier if you went back to sleep."

"You haven't slept yet."

"So what? I'll wake you up if I get tired."  
"Fine," Dylan said. He figured he must be behind on his sleep, because is earlier nap had made him more tired than refreshed. Besides, the heat was still unbearable. Even Rhade was starting to sweat. "Fine. You stay up and prove how much better-equipped you are to handle anything physical."

Rhade started to protest, but he didn't, instead pulling his knees up to his chest and looking at the wall ahead of him, just a meter above where Dylan stretched out his legs.

* * *

When Dylan awoke, Rhade was in the same position. He'd been asleep for five hours, and he felt like hell from having slept on the hard floor. He didn't open his eyes until he felt Rhade's eyes on him.

Rhade said, "You snore."

"No, I don't."

"Trust me. You snore like nobody I've ever heard."

"Why didn't you wake me up?"

"I'd rather listen to your snoring that deal with any more of your insults." He was angry, suddenly, his face twisting into a look only a step away from his battle face.

"What?" was all Dylan could say. Had he spent the whole five hours working himself into a fight?

"Neitzschean this, muscle that. I'm always the big, dumb enforcer. You make the decisions and I do the dirty work. I'm shocked that you even care what's bothering me. It doesn't matter, right? I'm just a big, stupid Neitzschean to you."

"Have you ever met a stupid Neitzschean? I don't have a clue what's wrong with you, but I don't think of you that way. You do a lot more on the ship besides physical things when you want to. Your problem is, you spend a lot of time keeping up the appearance that you're invulnerable, that nothing can harm you or even penetrate that thick skull of yours. Pardon me for being shocked when I find out differently."  
Rhade stood and looked as if he wanted to pummel Dylan, but as soon as he got very close to the wall, he suddenly shirked from it, and his hand clenched at his side. He breathed slowly, in and out, and Dylan watched as his eyes went from control to panic and back to control again.

"Rhade, tell me what's wrong."

He practically spat out his next words. "If I was so invulnerable, would I be this close to freaking out?"

"What is it?"

"The walls. It's too close in here."

"You're claustrophobic?"

"You don't miss much, do you?" he retorted.

"How come this has never been a problem before?"

"You've never been cramped up in a tiny area with me for more than a couple of hours. If I know I'm getting out, I can handle it. But if I don't…"

"You find the nearest corner and try not to scream."

"That's about it."

"They'll have to let us out eventually."

"That's not a comforting word. And, besides, who knows where they'll keep us when we're not providing our services."

"They may not actually need us to have sex with them. Maybe they'll just want a…deposit in their sperm bank."

"If you think I'm making any such deposit with you two meters away from me, you're crazy."  
"As strange as this sentence is going to sound, I'd much rather watch you jerk off than have to stay and have sex with God knows how many women for God knows how long."

Rhade only snorted and sat down, wiping the sweat from his face with his shirt. But the look on his face was indeterminable.

Two hours passed, and Dylan was sick of watching Rhade fidget. He scooted around so that he was beside him, clamping a hand over his knee as he did, to keep him from moving.

Rhade said, "Please, just get away from me."

"No. Obviously, I'm in your space no matter where I go. Maybe if I'm actually touching you, it won't be as bad."

"Or worse," he said.

"You tell me. Is it worse?"

Rhade took a deep breath and let his legs drop to the ground. "You really think you can make the whole world do what you want, don't you?"

"No. I can only hope." At that, Rhade gave him an annoyed look, but not before Dylan saw that his initial reaction had been a smile. "I'm tired of seeing how miserable you are. What relaxes you?"

"Nothing."  
"I bet you've never had an occasion to fight real fear, have you? Or real stress? You ever had a good backrub?"

"No."

"Lay down."

"What?"

"Lay down on your stomach. Just trust me."

"So many near death experiences start with those words."

Dylan pointed to the floor in the middle of the tunnel, hoping the farther he got from the walls, the less claustrophobic he would be. Dylan pulled up his feet and had Rhade stretch out in front of him, longways. Crossing his legs, Dylan reached out and began to knead his hands into Rhade's back. Though it hurt his own back to bend that way, he was confident that it was necessary, because Rhade was so close to either freaking out or taking his frustration out on Dylan physically.

The other man's back was wide and tight and knotted up so much that Dylan doubted even his strong hands could release the knots. As his hands slid smoothly but heavily through the sweat, Rhade stopped feigning annoyance and started to let himself feel what Dylan was doing. An almost inaudible moan issued from his throat from time to time, and Dylan got braver, working the muscles from his shoulders all the way down to his lower back, the hollow in the middle right above the waistband of his pants. That elicited a pronounced moan, and Dylan smiled.

He said, "See, I told you to trust me."

Muffled, Rhade's reply was slow and quiet: "Neitzschean women are trained in massage, but it's mostly for show…or to coax a reluctant man into…well…Nothing that we'll be doing." Rhade closed his eyes and said, "I just might be able to go to sleep."

A few minutes later, as Dylan was making small, light circles over his shoulder blades, he noticed that Rhade was breathing steadily, sleeping finally. Dylan moved down the wall to where his feet were and stretched out his legs as he leaned back into the wall. He still felt Rhade's skin under his hands. He was rather glad Rhade was asleep. It made it much easier to keep Rhade frown seeing the erection he now had. He knew all too well how sensual a massage could be; he just hadn't counted on being that turned on by Telemachus Rhade and his off-hand mention of what a massage could lead to. It had been a very long time, since his academy days, that he felt any pull toward a man, and he had certainly never had those feelings about Gaheris Rhade. Of course, this was a whole different version. Maybe it was how he had pratically purred at his touch, once he calmed down. Maybe it was Dylan was just that desperate for physical affection. Looking at Rhade's sleeping form, now turned on his side facing away from him, he thought, Or maybe I've honestly never noticed just what sort of perfection I've had on my ship all this time. Physcial perfection, intellectual strength (despite what Rhade thought about Dylan's vision of him), and supreme control. Just this one weakness. It made him a little jealous, really. Rhade had one Achilles Heel, as opposed to the several Dylan hid every day: his uncertaintly about his mission, his fear that he was leading his crew into danger daily, his knowledge that he wasn't the perfect calm person they always saw, deep down. He had plenty of imperfections. He honestly hoped he didn't have to add uncontrollable lust for one of his crew members to that list.

continued…


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Still applies.

See previous chapter for notes.

Rhade woke up hungry and cranky but not quite as jittery as he had been. But he was still visibly bothered by his surroundings, and when he began to pace again, Dylan didn't say a word.

Rhade said, "Thanks…you know, for the massage."

"Let me know if you want another one."

"I think I'll be okay." The easiness from before swiftly turned back to deliberate coolness and the need for space.  
Dylan ate bread as Rhade continued to pace. He suddenly stopped when they heard Beka's voice crackle over his communication device.

"You there, guys?"

"Yes. Do you know where 'there' is yet?" Dylan asked.

"Working on it. Now, we're going to lose this transmission in about seconds. Do you know anything that'll help us?"

Rhade said, "Polyplautinol. That runs their generator. I think if you shut it down, we can get out."

Harper's voice came to them, then. "Where the hell are they getting polyplaut on this godforsaken continent?"

"Raiding nearby settlements. That's all we know."

Harper said, "Who knows what a generator that powerful will do if we shut it down."

"Explode?" Beka said.

"No. But I'm betting it circulates their oxygen too. I gotta tell you, you'd be so much better off finding an alternate means of—"

The crackle told them they were gone again, and Rhade cursed the silence.

"Well, that's comforting," Dylan said sarcastically.

"Harper will get us out."

"I think we need a new plan."

"We've exhausted all the plans we have. We just have to wait for Harper to take down the generator. We have to be ready when he does."

Dylan started to speak, but he heard the sound of footsteps. A woman he recognized as the leader advanced toward their cell. At first he thought maybe she had heard their transmission, but she was clearly only interested in one thing: Rhade.

She looked only at him, saying, "I've chosen you, and you will be for me only. None of the others."

After a long pause during which he stared her down, Rhade asked, "And him?"

"He will be for whoever wants him." Her eyes were not exactly cold, just set on a task she saw as inevitable. It was obvious she had chosen Rhade not simply because he was more physically imposing than Dylan but also because she genuinely found him more attractive. Perhaps she saw that he shared her forceful personality.

Rhade shook his head, resolutely, matching her coldness. "That's an unwise decision."

"Oh?"

"He is unsuitable for your purposes. He's inferior, a genetic mistake. He will only breed more weak men. On our homeworld, he's not even allowed to procreate. He is only around for strategy and to help us remember our ancient philosophy. I can see that you have no shortage of brains. Would you have weak men among you, or more like me?"

She eyed Dylan closely, so he dare not look to see if he could identify even the slightest trace of a smirk on Rhade's face. He was sure there wasn't one, but he was not sure how much of what Rhade said was what he believed.

The woman said, "I will have to deliberate over what you've said." With that, she turned and was gone again.

"What in the hell was that?" Dylan said.

"She bought it."

"No, what was that bullshit about me being inferior?"

"Me saving you from becoming a sex slave."

"You should be worried about yourself."

"You heard her. She's going to keep me all to herself. She'll let me go when she gets what she wants. But you'll never leave."

"That's crazy. Who says she won't want to have nine or ten little bastard Neitzscheans? Who says she won't kill you when it's all over?"

"I've never had a woman that dissatisfied with me."

"This isn't funny."

He snorted. "Of course it is. It's absolutely morbid and beyond bizarre. We have no idea what they're going to do. But at least I bought us and Harper some time."

"By telling them that I'm essentially a eunuch, shunned and mocked by my own people."

"It was the best thing I could come up with."

"I'm so glad that's how you see me."

Rhade started to speak, but he left his mouth hanging open. He closed it, finally, retreating to his corner and sitting down with a thud. Quietly, he said, "I was trying to be smart. I thought if I confused them, we'd get more time. I thought it would be a little suspicious to lie and talk about myself that way—as you delight in pointing out, I'm rather conceited by your standards; she wouldn't buy it for a second. I was just trying to save you, okay?"

"No," Dylan said. "You're right. It obviously bought you some time, anyway. Apparently, serving me up to the others isn't her first priority. But I think she was going to take you away just then."

"I know." He suddenly began to fidget again, but this time he didn't bother to hide the fear in his eyes.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Rhade?"

"What if I've just convinced them that you're worthless as a man?"

"Okay. Wasn't that the point?"

"Yeah."

But he still didn't look calm. Dylan said, "Rhade?"

He whispered, "What if that was the only thing keeping you alive?"

* * *

They were very quiet for a while as Dylan thought through the logic of their situation. Of course, the logic kept breaking each time he glanced at Rhade and saw how freaked out he was. Like Dylan, he was concentrating on their situation, but his eyes seemed like empty, hollow places now, and he would sometimes glance at Dylan with the guiltiest look on his face.

"I'm sorry, you know," he said.

"For what?"

"I'm just sorry. I wasn't thinking clearly."

"If I'd've thought of it, I'd've said the same thing. You did just fine."

"But it was for the wrong reasons."

"What?"

"Nevermind."

"Okay," Dylan said.

"I'm not trying to hide things from you. It's just…complicated."

"Okay."

Angrily, he said, "I should be able to get us out of this."

"As should I."

"I cannot believe I'm caught up in more manipulated sex."

"What?"

"This is what you do when you're Neitzschean. You procreate."

"But you're not exactly typical, are you?"

"What do you mean?" he snapped.

"You've been away from your people. But surely there's some technique you haven't forgotten, some charm you have stored away. Maybe you can convince her—"

"That's it!" Rhade rose. "Charm. You have to make her want to have sex with you."

"Great."

"It won't be that hard."

"No?"

"I'm actually surprised she believed those things I said about you. I've seen you charm your share of women."

"But not under this much duress."

"Just…I don't know." He ran a hand through his hair and said, rather sheepishly, "Make sure she sees your ass."

He was appreciating the subtleties of catching Rhade off guard and seeing him smile, but he still found the words to ask, "What?"

"It's a nice one. According to Beka. And Trance. And any woman I've ever heard speak about you. And give her that smoldering captain look, the one that says you're the strong, silent type and you can conquer the world."

"I didn't know I had a look like that."

"I think it's your natural expression." He smiled. "When you're not smirking like you are now."

"And what will you do?"

In an absolutely serious tone, he said, "Try to look as unappealing as possible."

Dylan just snorted. Who in the hell was he kidding?

When the girl came to bring them more food and water, she was nervous again.

"They will come for you soon. What did you say to Charity?"

They quickly recounted their bad idea about Dylan's unsuitability. The girl frowned, but she frowned even more when they told them their solution to the problem.

"No. No, no. They will not like that. It will only anger them. Charity will see it as a challenge." She now spoke directly to Rhade, transfixed momentarily by his face in the same way so many women and not a few men found themselves lost there. "She doesn't really care if he will be suitable for the rest of us. She is only worried about you. Besides, she needs both of you—the more new, tall men the better. Believe me, you are both superior to any man we have here."

"Then we just wait?"

"There's nothing you can do."

Dylan's eyes narrowed. The girl was refusing to look either of them in the eyes now. He said, "They've done this before."

"Yes."

"And?"

"Once you've impregnated enough women, they will send you on a raid. If you go, you will probably die. If you refuse, they will kill you."  
"You're sure?"

"Very," she said.

Rhade asked her, "How do you put up with this?"

"I have no choice. I know why they do it."

"But you'd never…" Dylan asked.

In a quiet, far-off voice, she said, "Once. My son was stillborn. I did have a tall brother, just a few inches shorter than you, but he too died in the raids. The raids are the problem, not the stature of the men in the colony. But I swore I would never take advantage of a man again, even if I must bear only short, frail children."

Dylan said, "What's your name? I'd like to know who was on my side."

"Hope."

"Well, Hope, I'm Dylan Hunt and this is Telemachus Rhade," he said. "If worse comes to worse, I can promise you will not be forcing me, okay?"

She smiled a very sad smile, shaking her head. Rhade added, "That would go for me too, if I wasn't, you know…"

"Thank you."

Dylan said, "If you see this as wrong, why don't they?"

"They do, sometimes, but they feel they have no choice. We are also a superstitious people. When we are gifted with outsiders, we feel that they must take advantage."

"Doesn't anything make a man unsuitable?"

She laughed, covering her mouth with her sleeve. "There is nothing you could do to make them believe anything other than the fates sent you to give them strong, virile sons."

She got up to leave, and they slumped back down into their customary positions on opposite walls. She was almost around the corner when she quickly retraced her steps back to the force field. "There is one thing…one thing that might make you unsuitable."

Then they saw her head jerk and they heard what she heard: footsteps. She looked Rhade in the eyes and said, "Men who only want to lie with men. It is a threat to us. They will not want you for sex, then. They wouldn't even want your dead bodies in this colony. You will most likely walk out unharmed."

Dylan watched her round the corner and then he looked at Rhade, whose eyes were wide as saucers. The girls' footsteps retreating in one direction were drowned out by the sounds of several heels clacking toward them from the other end of the tunnel.

Dylan said, "What do we do?"

Rhade grabbed him by the shoulders and gave him that gaze that transfixed people: "Just trust me."

"Okay."

The leader was no longer in her fatigues but instead was wrapped in a blue cloak. Her three minions carried with them a pallet, food, and water.

She said, "You must be sufficiently hungry now. Will you come to me?"

Rhade said, "No."

"And why not? Am I not attractive?"

"Certainly."

"You know that this is inevitable. You know I will have you. Be resolved to it. You are doing a good thing for us. You will be the father of a race of warriors."

"If you say so." Dylan found himself a little confused watching Rhade. Why wasn't he at least accepting of this fate? It couldn't be all that different from what his biology had always told him to do.  
She said to Rhade, "You are difficult, but that can be a good quality in a man."

Then two of the minions trained small laser pistols at them. The leader motioned for the third to take down the force field, and she did, and the leader stepped into their space.

One of the minions approached Dylan and grabbed him by the arm.  
"I prefer that he stay," Rhade said forcefully.

"Why?" the leader said.

"I have a difficult time maintaining arousal without a man to look at."

She drew back from him instantly, but she soon began to scowl. "You're lying."

Rhade's voice was strong but tinged with lust. "He's my lover." Rhade's gaze drifted to him for a moment, and if Dylan hadn't known better, he'd have believed he was Rhade's lover. "That's why I didn't want you to give him to your women. I am very possessive. I will have sex with you, but only if he can stay right here where I can see him."

She stepped very close to him. "This is a ruse to keep him safe. I am not stupid. You lie very well with your mouth. But bodies don't lie. You are not an abomination. You will prove it."

"If you wish."

Rhade approached Dylan where he was leaned into the wall of the tunnel, and he kissed his neck first in order to whisper in his ear: "However far they make me take this, I won't hurt you. Tell me now if you'd rather comply with them than do this."

For Rhade's benefit as much as the spectators, Dylan said, "I am only yours."

So Rhade pressed into him and kissed him hard, as if they were sealing some pact of trust that had been unresolved until then. Dylan gasped into Rhade's mouth when he felt Rhade harden. Rhade gasped too, probably because he hadn't expected Dylan's body to respond in kind. Their kissing became deeper and slower, and he could feel Rhade's fingers probe the back of his neck, slowly massaging much like he had been massaged hours before. Hungrily, Dylan slipped his tongue into his mouth, and Rhade responded aggressively, thrusting his tongue in return as if it were a shadow of what he wanted to be doing with his body. Rhade began to rock his erection into Dylan's, groaning loudly for the benefit of their audience. Dylan was so caught up in the feel of such strong arms around him that he didn't care how miserably hot he was or how they were both covered in sweat or how four strange women were watching. It was like everything around him was quiet except the buzzing in his own brain, and he felt something practically radiating from Rhade. It was not unlike the steady but determined way he stood up to the leader: protective and possessive. And it wasn't faked.

Dylan began to unbutton Rhade's pants, but Rhade suddenly pulled his mouth away. The quiet they had felt enveloping them wasn't normal. He looked up at the three minions, who were quite unnerved.

One said, "What's going on?"

The leader said, "I've only heard that silence once, when I was a child. The generator is failing. Go at once and help the others to get out."  
"But what about the men?"

She practically shouted at them, and it sounded so loud in the quiet. "Can't you see they're not natural! They must not lay a hand on us." She ran out into the corridor, saying, "Go down there and take the first fork you find. You will find a hatch soon enough. Never return."

The lights were beginning to fail, so they hastily grabbed their things and headed in the direction they'd been pointed, running all the way. They saw the hatch in the dim light, but it was pitch black before they managed to get through it, Dylan boosting Rhade through, and Rhade pulling him up and out into the somewhat cooler desert air and the bright sun.

The adrenaline and exertion had begun to effect them, so they didn't talk but simply stood there, breathing hard and hoping their erections were gone before Beka came to rescue them. Once they were on the Maru, leaving the planet behind, they thought about Hope, but they knew she would likely not have come with them anyway.

* * *

After the excitement was over—and the two men endured their taunts and hailed the crew as their saviors without divulging how they really got free—Rhade disappeared, and Dylan waited only long enough to bathe before he hunted him down. It wasn't hard to find him.

He stepped into the hydroponics lab and saw that Rhade was also clean and in fresh clothing. "Are we not going to talk about this?" he asked him.

"What's there to say?"

"Um, I don't know what you felt back there, but..."

"Just forget it." This was cold Rhade again, with a bitterness in his voice that he couldn't quite cover.

"I don't think that's possible."

"Try."

"Why?"

"Because we both know that wasn't what you want."

"Are you sure of that? Have you known me to ever be that…passionate with anybody?"  
"They were threatening your life. Besides, I don't know what you do when you want someone."

"Well, I certainly don't sneak around the Andromeda to avoid them and whine to Trance about it."

He almost slammed his hand down on the counter but he stopped. "She told you that?"

"She didn't have to. I know when I've been kissed by someone who wants to kiss me. And I think you know it too."  
At that, Rhade's expression softened into a confused smile. "But you've never…"

"Well, you've never either."  
"I thought that after my ancestor…"  
"You're not him. Believe me. I figured that out a long time ago. But I just didn't realize any of this until today. I'm a little slow."

"I'm beginning to see that." Taking a deep breath, his face relaxed finally. He said, "You know, you're half of why I was so claustrophobic in that damn tunnel."

"And your claustrophobia is more than half of why I finally figured out just how nice it could be to put my hands on you."  
"So that backrub _was_ to seduce me."

"No. I think it was to seduce me."

Rhade smiled and said, "Look, about how I've been acting..."

"It's okay. I get it, finally. I can't believe I never even suspected."

"That's makes two of us."

Rhade didn't say any more, so Dylan said, "Okay, so not to be bossy or anything, but are you going to kiss me again, or do I have to take you out on a dangerous mission for that?"

Rhade shook his head and laughed, a nice sound to Dylan's ears because it was so rare and so rarely joyful and not sarcastic. Rhade practically attacked Dylan, pinning him against the counter, and they were both quickly hard again, trying to touch each other with every square inch of their bodies. Rhade was aggressive at first, like Dylan knew he would be, but then he slowed down and he was the same man who had called him lover earlier. His lips slid carefully over Dylan's before he let his tongue explore his lips and then his mouth. He sucked on Dylan's lower lip for a moment, finally moving his mouth to his neck. He said, "You smell really nice."  
"It's amazing what soap and water will do."

"Do you know how difficult it was to lie about you, to call you inferior?"

Pulling back to look in his eyes, Dylan said, "It wasn't a total lie. You said I was a philosopher, a brain. Does it really bother you so much that I'm…"

"Idealistic? Foolish? Overly Cerebral? No. Does it bother you that I'm just a big, stupid enforcer?" At those last words, Rhade had moved his lips to his ear, and he was now slowly tracing the outline of his ear with his tongue. His hips were grinding into his own, and it was making it hard for him to form coherent thoughts.

"You have a brain, and you use it well, and I appreciate having it thinking on my side…But if you don't stop that, I'm going to forget you have anything other than a mouth and a dick."

"You peeked when I was pissing before, didn't you?"

"Didn't you?"

"Yes. And I want you to know I'm also completely enamored with your body. I mean, I appreciate your mind because it's part of who you are, but your mind's not—"

He groaned as Dylan cut him off with a kiss. They groped at each other for a moment, and as Rhade's hand was sliding over Dylan's crotch, Dylan stopped him, holding him by the arm and pushing him back.

Rhade said, "What?"

"Do you really want to screw me in the hydroponics lab?"

He turned to leave, to pull the other man behind him, but Rhade threw his arms around him from behind. In a low, seductive tone, he said, "I don't care. I'll even let _you_ screw _me_ if you want."

"That's"—he sharply took in a breath as Rhade pulled his ass back into his hips—"exactly what I think we should do, but I'd rather not have an audience again."

Rhade growled into his shoulder. "Do you know how damn difficult it has been to seduce you, Captain Hunt?"

"Especially because you never tried."

"It's only because you're such a prude."

Dylan twisted around in Rhade's arms, and he slid his hand down Rhade's stomach and past the waistband of his pants, lightly brushing his erection. Quietly, but right in his ear, Dylan said, "Do you want to stand here and call me a prude, or do you want to come and have your view of me redefined?"

Rhade followed him out into the corridor. "I don't think you know how many views of you I already have in my head. And so few of them with any clothing."

-end-


End file.
